Chapter 3 - That's one of the most insulting things anyone's ever said
"What are you doing in here?" I ask quickly, embarrassed that someone witnessed my slight freak out. "This is the newspaper room, for editors only."
"I'm sorry, I just had to get out of there," a male voice says, creeping around the corner. I recognise him instantly, but his name escapes me. He's in some of my classes, and is really clever. His face is closed in with a pair of clunky black glasses, and his clothes are non-descript and plain. The one good thing I would say about his appearance, are his eyes, which are mostly hidden away by his glasses and straggly hair. They're bright blue, and darting.
"It's fine," I tell him. Seeing that he's no friend of Rowan coming to fetch me, I have no real problem with him being here. "I was feeling the same." I walk over to the large table in the centre of the room and flop into one of the chairs, laying my head in my hands.
"Are you alright?" he asks, and I notice the smooth undertone to his voice.
"Not really," I admit, looking up to see that he's standing at the other side of the table before me. Sighing, I gesture to the chair. "Take a seat." He raises an eyebrow, and I nod, slightly exasperated. "Sit down. If you're going to be staying in here with me then we should at least get to know each other."
He shrugs, and slides into the seat opposite.
"What's your name?" I ask, and he scoffs just a little under his breath.
"Leo," he says. "Leo Blakely."
"Well Leo, I'm Willow," I say, and he nods.
"Yeah, I know, we have English together," he says, and I let out an 'ohh' of realisation, as I remember.
"Oh, yeah," I say. "How's your Macbeth essay going?"
"I've finished it," he says, and I snort.
"Of course you have."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks bluntly, and I shrug.
"Well you're a bit of a nerd, aren't you?"
"You know nothing about me?" he challenges, leaning back in his chair at the same time I lean forward.
"I think I can guess pretty well," I say, and he raises an eyebrow.
"Try me," he says, and so I clear my throat slightly.
"I'm guessing you've been a little too smart for your own good since you were young, and that made it hard for you to make friends. And so you maybe had one or two in middle school, but other than that, you find it hard to talk to people, which probably helps with the whole 'clever' thing, because I guess it gives you more time to do studying, or whatever it is you do outside of school," I say, and he's quiet a moment before letting out a burst of unabridged laughter.
"That's possibly one of the most insulting things anyone's ever said to me," he splutters, and I'm taken aback slightly at his reaction.
"Are you high?" I ask, and he composes himself.
"No, but I wish I was," he says. "Would make this entire situation a lot more bearable."
"Hm," I say, studying his face and posture. For someone who's a complete loner at school, he sure does act like someone who knows what he's doing.
"And you couldn't be more wrong, by the way," he says. "All of that 'too smart for your own good' bullshit is way off."
"Well fill me in then," I say, slapping my hands onto the table top. "Where did I go wrong?"
YOU ARE READING
A Day in May
Teen Fiction"And it only took a day. Just one simple day for me to realise that people aren't who they seem. They're not always who they say they are, and although in some forms it's awful, sometimes it can be beautiful too. This person beside me hid their life...
